What Women Want

"Black coffee please and a scone with jam and cream," she said.
But she didn't really mean it.  
I delivered the order to the table.
"May I have some milk for my coffee?" she said.
I apologised. Said I thought, wrongly, that she wanted it black.
"Oh I probably ordered black. I'm always doing that."

Then there was the lady who asked if the soup was gluten-free.
Yes it is. Always. Although we don't have gluten-free bread to go with it (must do something about that).
She had the bread anyway.
Then she ordered a gluten-free orange, carrot and sultana cake.
When we took it to her she greeted it warmly: "I don't suppose this will be as nice as the cake I had 2 days ago."
Hmmm.
When I next went through the plate was clean.
And she was eating a scone.
Our scones are not gluten-free.
But that didn't seem to worry her.

Then there was the lady who told me she'd really enjoyed her jacket potato. 
"It's been a lovely interlude here," she beamed, "and it's my 85th birthday."
She was another who had to look to the gluten-free cakes on offer. I took her the ginger and lemon with a candle in it.
As I approached the table everyone in the conservatory started to sing.
I found out her name during line 2 and shouted it to the choir before the crucial bit.
"Happy Birthday dear Betty..."
Her daughter told me she was chuffed to bits.

Remote Control

My father arrived this morning with more plants for the conservatory.
He is my head gardener* and I pay him in coffee.

Today he's put in six oleander of different hues.

But the most interesting thing about this tale is that he bought them from a television shopping channel. 
Which means he was watching a tv shopping channel. 

Am now worried he might become addicted and blow my inheritance.

*only gardener

Really not our bag

Sunday.

Noah was baptised in the Church and came to us for his family celebration with 34 friends and family members.
He had a wonderful Ark cake with big-eyed animals all over it.
He's ten months old so it was eaten for him as he slept.

Then later a double birthday High Tea.
Sandwiches, cakes, scones with jam and cream, pots and pots of tea and multiple smiles.

Some people from the group which came yesterday returned for lunch and to collect a bag they'd left. An enormous green flowery hold-all which we'd found in the garden at close of play.
After their lunch yesterday I cleared their table and saw that they'd not only left it again but had also forgotten a second bag. Bags and owners have now been reunited.

I have had such a glorious weekend.
More of the same please.

Parish in the Spring

Saturday.
44 people, all descendants of rectors of the village going back to the early 19thC, arrived on a warm sunny morning. Most had never met anyone else there but it felt like a school reunion. They had coffee in the garden, swapped archive material and photos of The Old Rectory and its former inhabitants and then went off for a talk in the Church, saw the newly opened crypt and came back for lunch.
Among them was Josceline Dimbleby whose book, The Cook's Companion, has been very well loved and used in our house.
It's a bit dog eared to be honest, but that didn't stop me asking her to sign it.
And the visitors' book.
After she'd complimented the homemade rhubarb and orange cake and homemade honey ice cream. Once I was confident that she'd write something lovely.

The group left for Abberley Hall but in late afternoon several of them came back for tea and cake. And then yesterday another group of them came back for lunch.

Am really chuffed.

Yesterday was a wonderful day.

Lovely.

We have a Christening Party today and a Birthday High Tea. This morning I'm concentrating on making sure those go as well. 

After that I shall write more about the joy of Saturday.

Cook's Tour

Josceline Dimbleby is coming to lunch at the tea rooms tomorrow.
Eek.

Twice shy

"An espresso long," he said.
"Ooo," I replied, "I don't know what that is."
He sighed. And, sort of, tutted. Enough to make me feel unworldly.
"It's a double espresso" (I think he may even have said "doppio" but I was concentrating hard so my inner Italian must've kicked in) "except you put water through the coffee twice.". He went on, slowly..."you ...push ...the ...double-espresso-button ....twice".

It felt wrong. But I did it.

No accounting for taste

We have a menu.
And within certain parameters it can be adapted by request.
So a sandwich filling becomes part of the Ploughman's Lunch, a panini filling stuffs a jacket potato etc. and can make for some interesting orders.

We shall wait a long time to beat this one:
Smoked salmon, cream cheese and coleslaw.
Cooked in a panini *.



*yes, yes I know, singular is panino. It just looks and sounds wrong.

Cheery thoughts

A lovely bright sunny day yesterday and all was right with my world.
I even took the dog for a little walk round the Court, which she loved until the bird scarers (or dog scarers as we know them) started up. 
My mood couldn't even be dented by the man who booked for a group to come in June but added, "if we haven't been nuked by the North Koreans by then." 
Obviously I wouldn't hold him to his booking were that to happen.
Perhaps I should have asked for a deposit.

Not so Crowded House

Friday proved to be the quietest of the week. But then we did have the strange weather to contend with.

It was miserable and wet in the morning.

Got a bit better.

Sunshine and warmth.

Then another shower.

More sunshine which brought a few visitors.

Then HAIL bouncing off the roof of the conservatory and drowning out the conversations.

Not quite four seasons in one day.

But not far off.

Naughty.

Today we had a group of people on a coach from South Wales.
Ate a lot of cake.
Drank a lot of coffee and tea.
As I brought two slices of coffee and walnut to two ladies they rubbed their hands together.
"We're on holiday," they said, "and when we're on holiday we always have mucky cake."
The word "mucky" was delivered with relish and an eye twinkle.

The Cook Report

Two visitors of note today.
The first, a man I recognised but couldn't place.
I assumed he was a returning customer and greeted him warmly:
"Your first visit this season?" I asked.
"My first ever visit," he replied.
I said I recognised him from somewhere.
"I work at the hospital in Worcester," he said, modestly.
Ah yes.
He was the A&E doctor who treated me for an allergic reaction to hydrocortisone exactly a month ago.

As he left to take a seat Roger Cook walked in.
Roger Cook.
In my tea rooms.
Roger.
Cook.

We don't get many celebs round these parts.
He had lunch. But I couldn't tempt him to cake. No sweet tooth. He does, however, like cheese.
I urged him to write in the visitors' book.
He obliged:
"Splendid! Nothing to investigate here."

Reading matters

Note in the visitors' book:
"Love the newly manicured conservatory, but where are the magazines???"

I hadn't realised they were so important.
Have now bought an array including the latest Cosmopolitan which of course has the word "orgasm" in large letters on the front cover.
I didn't notice when I bought it.
My teenage son pointed it out.

Changing rooms

The new look conservatory...complete with all those chairs I painted over the winter, and a little sunshine.

Grand

Finally, a lovely day. No ice cold wind, just warm sunshine which allowed people to bask in the conservatory heat or venture outside.
The first visitors took their tea outside and then offered me their wedding china. They celebrate their fiftieth anniversary later this year and their children are replacing the whole set.  So they need a good home for it.
I made red onion marmalade for the first time. Ever. To go with the cheddar sandwiches and possibly the ploughmans. One solitary jar came out of it. Another lesson learned.
Claire made me a Red Velvet cake especially for Grand National Day. It just seemed perfect - Red Rum/National Velvet. Convoluted but popular. Another one to remember for next year...

Advance warming

This is a post to myself in a year's time.
It's cold today. Dry but cold.
Finger numbingly cold.
Which means that fewer people come out, yes, but they ALL want hot chocolate.
So.
Though the numbers are low, you are still likely to run out of milk.
Order more milk or you'll face a race to the Post Office.

One more thing.
Even in cold weather kids like to eat ice cream.
Order more than you think you'll need.

A Spring in the step

Yesterday, Tuesday, it happened.
People sat outside. Willingly. And didn't freeze.
We are making huge amounts of hot chocolate and the panini machine is working its heart out.

Don't know much about geometry.

There are some clever kids around.
One eleven year old boy ordered a brownie today.
"Shall we cut it in half?" asked his mum.
"That's not easy to do," he answered, "It's an isosceles triangle, not equilateral. We'd have to measure it."
They didn't cut it. He had the whole brownie. She had fruit cake.